


Starbucks Mints

by AlexNow



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, High School AU, M/M, brotherly hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 01:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexNow/pseuds/AlexNow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Gerard Way does not get along with his new brother. He doesn’t plan on ever having a conversation with him where they don’t end up yelling at each other, actually. Michael acts indifferent and doesn’t care a shit about Gerard, so why should he?</span>
  <br/>
  <span class="small">Prompt #23 found <a href="http://www.everythingsfrerardnothinghurts.tumblr.com/prompts">here</a></span>
</p><p>
  <b>-ON HIATUS-</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starbucks Mints

**~.~.~**

**_-December 4, 2009-_ **

“Gerard, honey!” A woman’s voice bounces off the walls of the rather large house. Gerard sighs and looks over his shoulder in the direction of the door of his room, the wood visibly crumpling under his yell.

“Yeah?”

“Come help me set the table, will you? Michael has already helped me prepare dinner!” The elder woman replies with the tone barely under a shriek. Gerard rolls his eyes and forcibly throws his Xbox controller on his bed (which is a rather large picture of Batman from when he was twelve, he may add).

He stands up and grumbles on his way down into the kitchen where his mother is serving some spinach on a plate, a disgusting green blob covering more than half the porcelain plate.

“Well, then,” He mutters on his way, “I‘m sure _Michael_ wouldn‘t mind helping you put some utensils and napkins as well.”

“ _Gerard,_ ” Donna scowls, “Don‘t act immature and _set the damn table._ Don‘t upset me.”

Gerard rolls his eyes and opens the cabinet to grab four plates, hating how he knowledge out of the blue how he used to only have to grab two. He scowls at himself. Why does he even have to ‘set the table’? He never used to have to. Just grab a stupid plate and scoop some rice. And _oh yeah._ His mom’s trying to _impress_ Mr. Way. Who is he?, you ask.

His mom’s fucking boyfriend.

“Yeah, _Gerard,_ ” A mocking voice comes from behind him, right next to his ear, “ _Don‘t upset her._ ”

Gerard’s hands tighten on the plates as he sets them down on the old table, refusing to look into the other’s eyes, because he knows that if he does he’ll just _snap._ And right now punching his mom’s boyfriend’s son would not be a good idea. Not if Gerard’s planning in convincing his mom to send him to another school far, far away.

Instead he glances up towards the direction of the kitchen, and looks at the small window where his mom is spinning a spoon in the lemonade pitcher. Of _course_ she didn’t notice the boy that is the light in her eyes acting like a piece of shit. She never does. In her eyes Michael’s just an angel who’s absolutely perfect to be part of the _family._ Gerard snorts. Yeah. Great family they are (but really aren‘t).

Thankfully, Michael has long gone upstairs to the basement to snoop around or something, not expecting any response by Gerard’s part. Gerard never says anything in the presence of Donna, mostly because whenever Michael gives a smart ass comment, Donna doesn’t notice. But when _Gerard_ responds, Donna gasps and grounds him for a week. It’s as if the Mothership is against him or some evil shit like that.

Just as Gerard’s setting down the last knife (right next to the fork) the doorbell rings, and Gerard winces. _Great, may hell begin._ Donna immediately stops what she’s doing and jogs (actually _jogs_ ) on her way to the door where Don (is it possible they have matching names) is waiting, probably with another bouquet of cheap flowers as he always does.

Gerard hears noises near the stairs and he knows Michael’s come down once hearing the bells of the entrance. Why Don had to leave Michael ‘to help Donna with anything she needs’ on a few hours in advance, who the hell cares. Gerard just wants him away. Michael’s already in a polo,  dark pants, and is patiently standing next to a seat. (Gerard _refused_ to put on anything too fancy and settled for some old jeans and a soft discolored Misfits t-shirt).

Gerard would take a seat on the far other side of the table to be away from Michael, but he knows Donna would be upset over having to sit so far away from ‘the love of her life’. Gerard, being such a well-mannered person and terribly kind, does one thing. He sits in front of Michael. And _fuck_ , he _knows_ he’ll regret it later.

“Hello, Gerard.”

It’s until then that Gerard notices that his mom and Don had already walked into the dining room. As Gerard had predicted, Donna is holding a pack of roses in one hand, while the other holds Don’s hand with a large grin. He looks away and finally raises his eyes to meet the other’s.

Don greets him with a warm smile, the end of his eyes crinkling in a pleased matter and his free hand outstretched in Gerard’s direction. Gerard grimaces and since his mom is standing _right there_ , awaiting his reaction, he stretches his upper half of his body to lean over the table and puts his hand in Don’s to shake it.

“Hey.”

Don nods and isn’t surprised at Gerard’s indifferent answer. He turns to the blonde aside of him, “Mike, I hope you were of use today.”

Donna takes this as the opportunity to jump into the conversation and express what a _wonderful_ smart boy Michael is, which Gerard only rolls his eyes at. Michael’s the only one who catches it and his lips barely move into a very small smirk. But really, who’s surprised? The kid barely even talks, less _smiles_.

The sound of laughs fill the empty silence as Gerard’s mom rambles on and on, and apparently only Gerard is the one who finds it much more uncomfortable. Donna seems happy talking about _all_ the help Michael’s been to make her boyfriend happy (“Oh, and did I mention he washed the dishes that Gerard forgot to yesterday? He also helped me make the spaghetti and cut the lettuce for the salad!”), Don is laughing, and Michael (the fucker) is quietly stealing some bread from the center of the table while they still stand, Gerard waiting to be given permission to eat.

Gerard is ready to point this out, but then when he opens his mouth he feels something soft hit him on his lower stomach and before he could see what it is he hears Michael’s voice say, “Should I grab some cups from the cabinet for the lemonade, Ms. Montec?” in his all too polite voice.

Donna turns with a smile and is about to accept his offer when she notices that half the bread is already gone. Gerard almost laughs at the stupidity of Michael’s actions but then he hears, “ _Gerard!_ ”

He looks down and sure enough, the trail of crumbs lead right towards his side of the table and a piece of crouton on his plate. When he looks up to glare at Michael, he sees the other innocently walk away to retrieve some glass cups.

Gerard is still staring furiously at the entrance of the kitchen and completely forgets that his mom is accusing him of eating ahead of time. And so, this causes Donna to believe he is ignoring her.

“ _Gerard Arthur Montec!_ What have you _done_!”

Gerard faintly hears a snort coming from the kitchen followed by a, “Are you **serious?** _Arthur?_ ”

And the worst part is that it’s Don who convinces Donna not to ground Gerard ‘for something as significant as this. He’s a growing boy, Donna. He needs his food’.

The rest of the dinner is full of Michael kicking the bottom of his chair, Gerard kicking Michael’s foot back harshly, Michael glaring and kicking harder, and Donna expressing her appreciation on Don coming to spend the evening with her. Yep, exactly what Gerard wanted. Another blockhead to tolerate.

 

 

**_-December 25, 2009-_ **

“Oh, thanks.” Gerard mutters as he pulls out yet _another_ knitted sweater from Don’s parents. What he’s doing here, he doesn’t fucking know. Don had invited him and her mother to spend their winter vacation in California and _god._ Gerard just wants to leave back to Nevada. A couple hours of alone time with his markers and a sheet of paper wouldn’t really hurt anyone.

But yet, _no._ He’s stuck in the house of some old pair he’s never met before while his mom helps them with the dishes, Don leaves to retrieve something, and Michael plays videogames Gerard itches to play (but he‘d rather die than ask for a game).

The worst part (because, yes, there‘s something worse) is that there’s only two extra rooms in the house. Naturally, Don and Donna share one. The other one? Well, Gerard didn’t succeed in convincing his mom he could stay in the garage.

“Could‘ve got him.” Michael mutters to the screen as his fingers keep moving rapidly against the controller. Gerard rolls his eyes and throws himself on the sofa next to him, knitted sweater long forgotten on his luggage as the elder couple go outside to search for their son since there’s a blizzard going outside. (Alright, maybe Gerard had always secretly wanted to go to ‘ _Big Bear’_ here in Californiabut he never thought he‘d have to stay in the fucking cabin of his mom‘s boyfriend‘s _parents_ ). They aren’t Gerard’s grandparents. Period.

Three hours have passed not, and the snow is now carelessly falling to the ground without a care in the world. He takes this as an opportunity to go outside in his own coat (that isn‘t itchy) and sit on the bench on the balcony. Staring into the sky, he shivers slightly as some snow seeps into his shoe and touches his warm toes. He then hears the door open and close and he doesn’t bother to turn around.

“I‘ll head back inside in a couple minutes, ma. I won‘t get sick. Just let me sit here for a while.”

“Well, I don‘t know about your mom but I don‘t mind the fact that you need some time alone.”

Gerard turns his head over his shoulder, surprised at the new voice, and almost sighs as he sees Mrs. Way sit down next to him, clutching her scarf around her neck while letting out a puff of air, forming a small white cloud.

“Oh. Hello.” All emotion drains from his voice.

She pretends not to notice and smiles at him, “Hello, Gerard. How are you?”

Gerard isn’t surprised that she’s trying to make conversation but he is in fact surprised she bothered to ask. But trying to continue feeling neutral about it he just shrugs. Mrs. Way smiles and turns her head towards the trees and the white forest in front of them. Like another movie of Narnia or some shit like that. All they need is Michael to grow another two furry feet and they’re all set to go.

“I understand you don‘t like the idea of staying here,” Mrs. Way suddenly says to the trees, “But you know that when your mother‘s happiness is put at risk you can‘t really do anything about it, Gerard. You know what your mother has been through, because you also went through the loss of your father but--”

“Listen, Mrs. Way,” Gerard interrupts just in time quickly and tries not to snap, “I understand that all you‘re trying to do is help but really, I‘m old enough to deal with it alone. I‘m seventeen. I--”

“Please,” This time it’s Mrs. Way that interrupts politely with a smile thrown his way without her turning around, her eyes still on the forest, “Call me Elena.”

Gerard finds out Elena isn’t as much of a loser as her family. She’s actually pretty cool. She tells him about her experiences (but not in a boring ‘in my days…’ way) and even scowls at him at one moment when he insults Michael and hits him in the back of the head with her hat.

But it all comes to end when Don comes running past them into the house with something big in his hands and shivering so harshly Gerard wonders how he hasn’t died yet. They go back in, and there they see him setting the container on the table unravel what seems to be cold turkey. Donna ‘awwww’s and gives him a kiss, cooing over his bravery or some shit like that. Gerard turns away and gags.

By the time they are on the table staring at the turkey that is now steaming hot from being in the oven, no one’s talking. It’s sort of an eerie silence and Gerard just _knows_ there’s something behind it. Obviously, he doesn’t want to talk so he waits for someone else to make the first move towards the food.

Gerard stares at his mom, who’s across from him, and narrows his eyes as if saying, _‘Well?’_. She opens her mouth once seeing his gaze and she closes it again. She turns to Don pleadingly. He nods and turns to Gerard and Michael’s side of the table. It’s until then that Gerard notices them being the only ones on the left side. The other four staring them both down.

The silence stretches on for about another five minutes, but to Gerard it seems like hours. His stomach is growling and he knows he can’t touch the food yet. But the red sauce of the meat decorated with vegetables makes his mouth water. He isn’t going to last longer.

So he opens his mouth to ask if he can eat already but then Michael beats him at it and says, “Are we not going to eat?”

Donna closes her eyes for a brief moment and moves her eyes towards the ceiling and mutters something. Gerard’s confused because she’s never been the religious type. They just commemorate Christmas because Don’s parents _are._ What are they going to do next? Celebrate Hanukah or do one of those Irish dances on the table? She clutches onto Don’s arm and nods.

“Gerard,” He says and turns his head towards him, “Michael.”

“What is it?” Michael mutters and eyes hungrily the chocolate chip cookies Donna and Elena had made.

“We‘ve got an important announcement to make.” He continues, and you don‘t have to check under the table to know he‘s holding Donna‘s hand in a death grip, “And before we say this, we want to make sure you have clear that we‘ve never been so certain about this decision as any other. We have no doubts and we‘re sure we never will have.”

“When you say _we,_ ” Michael says slowly, “To who exactly are you referring to?”

Don wraps his arm around Donna’s shoulders and kisses the top of her forehead, “I mean Donna and I.”

Gerard begins to breathe heavily and his wide eyes move from his mother to the other person. He knows what’s coming next.

 _“No.”_ He whispers.

“Gerard, Michael,” Don says and his eyes gravely stare at both of them. Aside of Gerard Michael‘s hand begins to shake in an unnatural way, “Donna and I are getting married.”

Gerard’s out of his chair before he even finishes the sentence.

 

 

**_-February 16, 2010-_ **

The corridor is all about the red carpet, now adorned with red and white rose petals. At the edges of each bench there is a huge white ribbon. Gerard scowls at the sight of them because he thinks they’re too much. Everyone’s either wearing a dress or a tuxedo, much like Gerard himself. It’s the reason he feels as if he’s suffocating and he seriously wants to go to the bathroom, take it off, and just sit on the toilet while sighing in relief.

Instead here he is, waiting for him mother to appear through the church doors in that ridiculous Disney princess dress and eventually it does happen, and Gerard doesn’t feel guilt as he feels disappointed that his mom does indeed emerge. He was hoping she panicked at the last moment and dramatically ran away in her white dress through the streets like one of those corny romance movies he caught Mikey watching one day. Or maybe it was the second movie of _Spiderman._ He doesn’t know anymore.

Everyone turns around and stares in shock as the organ starts the marriage piece and Donna slowly walks towards the front of the church, where Don is waiting in a fit of anxiety. But seeing her in front of him, he finally smiles and waits patiently as he makes her way towards him. There are cameras filming, and the camera men, knowing Gerard and Mikey are each one of their children, focus on them too. Gerard grimaces and looks over his shoulder to hide his face.

To his right, Mikey rolls his eyes and ignores the cameras. To his left, Elena smacks Gerard on the back of his head and scowls, whispering harshly to him that this is a special moment for his mother and that he should stop behaving so childishly. Gerard’s cheeks tinge pink and he begs in his head to anyone who will listen that Elena’s snap didn’t come out on the tape. But the camera man’s chuckle says otherwise.

Gerard doesn’t pay attention to the mass as much as everyone else did. It’s just full of prayers, cheers, the priest’s shitty jokes, and Mikey’s annoying sighs every minute. Gerard contemplates asking the lady in front of him for her pen so he could sketch on the bottom of his shoes but goes against the idea because there’s no way Elena was _not_ going to shove the pen down his throat if he doodled on the expensive shoes.

Hearing another sigh coming from Mikey, Gerard clenches his jaw.

 

 

The party was right after, and so Gerard was forced to interact with strangers who claimed to be Gerard’s long lost cousins or aunts. When they ask him, “Do you remember me? We used to play all the time when you were a toddler!” Gerard stiffly smiles and politely shakes his head while apologizing even though he really wants to scream to their face that no, he doesn’t remember them, because he was a fucking three year old who barely knew how to walk.

By the time it’s midnight and everyone is drunk and singing karaoke in a horrifying way that should be illegal, Gerard’s tired of all the party crap and has tried to distance himself from his eight year old cousins who pester him so he could give them each a piggyback ride. He’s leaning on the bright wall with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, lazily blowing out smoke rings into the air even though they are bound to disintegrate in the cold within seconds. His unoccupied hand is shoved deeply into his jacket and his head is leaned back against the wall.

“You know smoking kills you.”

“You know being annoying can kill you.” Gerard replies without missing a beat. Mikey rolls his eyes and moves to lean on the wall next to Gerard. He settles for staring into the dark sky and ignoring the music coming from inside the party, before he turns his head and his eyes settle on staring at the little cardboard box in Gerard leather jacket.

“Give me one.” He demands. Gerard opens his right eyes and tilts his head to see Mikey net to him. He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re only fourteen.” Gerard says. Mikey snorts.

“As if two years is much of a difference,” He replies easily, “And I doubt Donna knows you smoke.”

Mikey adds the last part innocently, as if he weren’t using it in a silent threat and a way to make Gerard’s life even more impossible. Gerard sighs and hates how manipulative his mother’s _husband’s_ son is. Because, obviously, Don isn’t his father. He hands one over to Mikey and lights in up to him. Mikey brings it up to his lips.

“Just inhale.” Gerard mutters in his direction, or at least at what he thinks is his direction. It’s ridiculously dark now and almost impossible to distinguish Mikey’s silhouette from all the other shadows of the trees around them.

“I _know,_ ” Mikey responds, with an annoyed edge to his tone, “I’m not stupid.”

Gerard snorts and raises his eyebrows at him, hoping Mikey can feel his amused gaze. “Oh, really? Doesn’t seem like it.”

It isn’t a surprise when he hears Mikey sighs, which only means it was promptly followed by a roll of his eyes. Mikey is really predictable, and it’s an extra point to Gerard.

It _also_ isn’t a surprise when Mikey starts coughing. But what _is_ surprising is that they aren’t small little noises of him struggling to get clean air. Far from it. They were a part of a whole act of him suffocating and for a moment Gerard thinks that Mikey was stupid enough to shove the whole cigarette down his throat or something of that sort.

Mikey whirls down on his knees and he starts choking on his own breaths. The light of the cigarette slowly burns down as it buries into the dirt and Gerard panics.

“Fuck, Mikey! What the fuck did you do! Don’t die on me asshole, or mom will kill me.” Gerard practically yells, his own cigarette down in ashes under the heel of his shoe and both his hands buried into his black hair.

Mikey gasps and seems to try to zip his hoodie pocket open without much success. He fiddles with it and then gives up, his hand now around his neck. Gerard quickly falls to his knees beside him and opens the bag for him, pulls out whatever was inside and passes the plastic to Mikey without a glance to it in the dark.

Mikey takes it, and suddenly sharp breaths are heard. He’s gasping for air and Gerard glares at him, his hands balled into fists and his eyes portraying pure murder.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re asthmatic?!”

Mikey, seeming to finally get over his small attack, gets on his feet and put the inhaler in his pocket once again. He pats his knees slightly to dust away the dirt and shrugs once he’s upright.

“I didn’t think it was important. I didn’t know you cared.” Mikey says this with the sound of a smirk in his tone, a sound that Gerard has taught himself to detest.

“Well, I _do_ care when it’s the reason I go to jail for giving an asthmatic kid a fucking cigar and _killing_ him!” Gerard shouts, hands in the air. Mikey snorts.

Gerard finally loses it. His breathing starts laboring and he anxiously starts swindling through his pockets, his fingers shaking slightly as he takes out his Marlboros and lights another cigarette, practically pushing it into his mouth. Mikey stares, and Gerard ignores it as he sighs in relief into the air. The smoke releases himself and Gerard swears he sees some life forms in it.

“Since when have you been smoking?” Mikey suddenly asks. Gerard doesn’t even glance at him. Mikey’s tone isn’t necessarily interested (is it ever?) but it’s obvious he isn’t leaving without answers. Gerard, who is indeed still angry with him, shrugs.

“Two or three years. I don’t know.”

So Gerard’s been smoking ever since he was thirteen years old. Big deal. He refuses to believe it was because of his father. He does it because he chose to, period. No more questions asked.

“You’re stupid, you know.” Mikey adds, turning away. Gerard frowns.

“If that’s what it’s called these days.” He responds.

Mikey doesn’t acknowledge his response, instead choosing to walk away, into the party where Donna and Don are still well-dressed as a just married couple. Gerard almost gags at the thought.

“I _really_ don’t like you.” Gerard finds it necessary to make sure Mikey knows this. Mikey turns around and by the light of the party going inside Gerard can barely see the ghost of a smile on his lips, mocking and sarcastic.

“I never asked you to.”

 

 

**_-April 10, 2011-_ **

“Mom,” Gerard says into the receiver, “I’m finished. Come pick me up.”

His eyes scan around the trees around him, though he’s already had the same view millions of times. Just to have some comfort in familiarity, he guesses. The same houses, the same signs, and the same street names (the intersection of Midway Road and Hasher Street). It’s always the same boring prospect. Expect the unexpected.

 _“I’m on my way, honey. I just came back from the market.”_ Donna’s voice replies, the sound of by passers obvious. She’s evidently walking along the street towards the car.

Gerard nods, even though he’s aware his mother can’t see him. He can wait. He always waits, and eventually his mother arrives.

“Alright,” He finally replies, “Don’t take too long.”

_“I won’t, honey.”_

And the line goes dead.

Gerard hates this. He hates coming here every Wednesday and Sunday, and he hates coming here especially after his _birthday._ No one wants to spend the day after making it into seventeen years in with a shrink. And that is _just_ what Gerard told Mrs. Carlson.

Gerard hates her, clearly. It’s nice to have someone listen to his problems and care, but she’s once one of those things. If Don’s money didn’t add up into her paycheck then she wouldn’t sit in that couch in front of him and nod, commenting every now and then.

But she’s also rude. She doesn’t quite _understand_ Gerard like someone should. Especially someone with her profession. She states that Gerard is plain wrong, and forces him to believe her. Not that Gerard ever really _does_ but he has to pretend in order for her to fuck off.

And forget about the part where Gerard talks about his problems, because he really doesn’t. Every now and then he mentions how he hates school and hates having to share one room with _Mikey_ because Don’s house is too small for Gerard to have a room of his own (Donna and Gerard moved in long ago). Mrs. Carlson just nods and hums, writes something down and says something stupid like “And have you talked to Mikey about your dislike towards him?”.

But Donna says that whether Gerard notices it or not, Mrs. Carlson is helping him. Only because of that _one_ time Gerard lost his composure and broke down crying in front of the lady, and that had only occurred because Gerard was still slightly high on the weed he smoked minutes ago. Thankfully, no one smelled that on him.

And because Gerard broke down crying over the passing of his father, Mrs. Carlson tried to talk some sense into him about how he should try to move on because that’s what Mr. Montec would have wanted if he really loved his only son. Gerard was weak at the moment, so she succeeded. And guess what, ladies and gentlemen? Gerard is now Gerard Arthur Way.

 

 

When Donna arrives in the old car, she isn’t alone. There are bags and bags of vegetables in green clear bags (Gerard’s silently delighted to see two containers full of coffee, as well) so it forces Gerard to try and squeeze into the backseat, being the passenger one already occupied by the other boy who’s too engulfed in texting to notice him.

“Why don’t I just go in the back,” Gerard says sarcastically as he hugs his legs to his chest in order to not step on the lettuce, “I’m sure I’ll get more space there.”

“Can’t,” Mikey replies, never once looking up from his blackberry, “It’s already filled with three bags of apples and a box full of tomatoes.”

Gerard groans and lets his head fall back; cursing the moment Donna decided that ‘it was time to get her family to eat healthier’. He really hates having his money temporarily taken away from to so he can’t order any pizza. There goes all his Italian genes. To hell with it, then. He might as well stop eating, Gerard thinks bitterly at the thought of not being able to eat any junk food.

“So what did Mrs. Carlson say about today’s session?” Donna finally says, choosing to ignore her sons’ reactions. Gerard sighs.

“Nothing.” He responds, because there’s not anything else to say.

Donna sighs, because she’s used to the lack of response of her eldest son. She was just hoping today was different, but obviously not. Then she looks over in the review mirror to see her son slumping and ignores the clacking of Mikey’s fingers on his cellphone aside of her.

“Gerard.” She says in order to get his attention. It works, because Gerard looks up to connect his gaze through the mirror.

“Yeah?” He mutters, arms still crossed. Donna smiles and makes a left turn.

“I think your father,” Gerard scowls at the word which means nothing but doesn’t say anything, “And I are ready to give you your second birthday present.”

Gerard blinks, because he didn’t know they had one. He thought that the art supplies and comics were enough, but apparently not (not that he’s complaining, actually). He had felt happy enough with just those (more than delighted) but it seems that there’s still more. Mikey looks up from his phone from texting his best friend as something suddenly catching his attention. Gerard, he waits.

“Remember when you mentioned to us that you don’t like living here?” Donna continues. Gerard nods slowly, wondering where this is going, “Well, we’ve come to a decision that we think will be best for the family.”

Gerard’s eyes widen a small bit, and his lips part open. Donna’s smile confirms what he’s thinking, and he grins.

 

 

“Did you even _think_ about me?” Mikey snaps as he storms into the house, backpack long forgotten on the floor. Donna sighs and locks the car after she sees Gerard s also out. She calmly walks in as well and Gerard just glances at the vegetables which are going to rot quite fast in the car heat. Serves them right.

“Michael, of _course_ we thought of you. It’s the reason we came up to this conclusion. It’s for the best of both of you.” Donna replies, and Gerard closes the door behind him once he’s inside. The cold air of the inside of their house is welcome, as well as the thought of finally getting to stop going to his sessions with Mrs. Carlson.

“If you thought of me you would have remembered I _grew_ here and all my friends are here,” Mikey complains, turning around to sate at Donna, “Ray and I had even thought of making a band but now that we’re _moving,_ that won’t be able to happen!”

“Honey, we’re moving until the end of September. I’m sure you still can try that out.”

“It’ll only be six months. It isn’t enough time to suddenly become a talented band!” Mikey argues back and with a frustrated sigh throws himself on the bed, “I’ll barely have enough time to celebrate my birthday before we move.”

Gerard slips away and quietly walks up the stairs of the house he had grown to get used to. He enters his bedroom and closes the door, throws himself on his bed, and takes a nap.

 

 

What wakes Gerard up is the slam of a door. Gerard doesn’t know how long he slept but it feels like seconds. There’s scuffing, and then the thud of drawers slamming open and closed.

“Unbelievable.” Someone mutters, hissing and annoyed. Gerard turns on his back to stare at the back of his step-brother.

“Well, believe it,” Gerard responds with a smirk and his arms resting behind his head, “Because it’s happening. I finally got my way.”

Mikey rolls his eyes and continues looking through. Gerard doesn’t put much mind into it. That is, until he starts fiddling with _Gerard’s_ drawers and fooling around with them by moving and placing them out of order.

“Hey, Hey! Stop that. What are you doing?” Gerard demands, sitting up and looking at Mikey. Mikey sighs.

“Looking for my other inhaler.”

“The nerd lost his breathing device?”

Mikey turns his head over his shoulder and glares at him through his glasses, which are perched on the bridge of his nose.

“Shut the fuck up. I could always grab one of your cigars and blame you for it.”

Remembering the incident no one found out about more than a year ago, Gerard rolls his eyes and moves to get his sketching pad from under his mattress. Like always, Mikey and Gerard spend the day on their own sides of the room and ignoring the other’s existence.

 

 

**_-October 2, 2011-_ **

“Mikey, for goodness sake. You’ve been on that damn phone _all day._ Who are you talking to?” Donna, demands, eyebrows furrowed and hands on her hips. Mikey glances at her and then looks back down to the device.

“Ray.” Is his curt response. Donna rolls her eyes.

“Have you put all your stuff in your room?”

Mikey hums in response. “And even separated them into my side of the room.”

Donna looks surprised. “Oh, don’t! Gerard already said he’s going to use the basement as his room. He’s working on it right now, painting the walls.”

Mikey looks up at Donna and places his phone down. Gerard’s staying at the basement? He’s finally going to have a room all for himself, finally once again without having to share with any other human beings.

“Now go help your father with the rest of the boxes. We’ll have to have at least the kitchen ready for tomorrow.” She says. Mikey sighs and turns around in the direction of the door.

“Yes, ma’am.” He mutters. Donna rolls her eyes at him and waves him away. He complies.

“Oh, and don’t forget!” She calls after him, “To get your backpack ready for tomorrow! It’s your first day of school, remember?”

Mikey sighs exaggeratedly and grumbles at the thought of having to start all over again by talking to new people. He can practically hear Ray’s laughter at him in his head and pats on his shoulder of sympathy. The fucker.

“Have fun!”

Mikey turns on his shoulder to see Donna smiling widely at him and watching him walk towards the car outside of their new house and he tries to smile.

But he still finds their new three story house unwelcoming without his doodles around it hidden behind shelves of when he was three.

 

 

The next morning is anything but welcome. The curtains had ended up getting caught on his shelve thanks to the wind (since Mikey always leaves it open for some fresh air to seep in) and caused the daylight to ooze into his room when it was time to go to school.

Mikey was _sure_ it wasn’t even time to go to school yet but yet he lies on his bed awake with his arm thrown across his face. But just then his clock makes its annoying shrilling sound and he curses under his breath and stretches his arm in order to find the damn clock to shut it off. He blames Gerard for this, since he was the one who set up the alarm noise when they used to room together. Then he smiles at the thought of Gerard sleeping on the uncomfortable couch since his room isn’t ready yet. Donna had told Gerard he was not allowed to sleep in the basement until the paint dried (she didn’t want her son drugging himself with the smell, not that the weed she didn’t know he smoked were any better).

“Michael! Are you awake?” Donna’s voice comes from downstairs. Mikey groans in response and then pulls his bed covers over his head, delighted at the darkness it emits.

“ _Michael._ Get up! You better not be late on your first day of school!”

Mikey groans louder, knowing that the stern tone she uses only means she’s being dead-serious, and that if he really is late then he’s in the shit for sure. So he gets up, and his morning passes quite quickly. Much more quickly then he would have wanted it to.

One minute he’s groggily walking towards his bathroom to wash his face, the next he’s already dressed in his old pants and Iron Maiden t-shirt, and then the next he’s eating a piece of toast on the kitchen counter while occasionally stealing sips from Gerard’s cup (earning glares thrown his way by the elder boy who is too lazy to really even say anything).

Mikey checks the time on his cell phone and notices he’s yet to set off towards the direction of the school, considering he’ll barely even have time to collect his books from his new locker. He says this aloud, earning a smile from Donna and a sarcastic silent thumbs-up from Gerard. Mikey grabs his backpack, slings it over his shoulder, and leaves.

After he steps a foot out of the house he internally sighs in relief, because it seems Donna at _least_ isn’t making him walk with Gerard to school. Mikey walking to school with an older brother, cool. Mikey walking to school with _Gerard?_ Pathetic.

 

 

“Is this seat taken?” Mikey asks a girl who seems to be too into herself to notice the world. The girl looks up with huge brown eyes, and once her eyes fall onto Mikey’s form, she frantically nods her head and reaches for her ratty backpack to hastily shove it on the once vacant seat. Mikey frowns and looks for somewhere else.

The only place he finds to ask for the seat is next to some big guy who seems to be challenging Mikey with his gaze to _dare_ ask if he could sit next to him. Mikey, because he thinks it’s better than sitting on the floor, decides to test his luck and begins to approach the intimidating dude. Then, he hears someone call something in his direction.

“Hey! New kid!” And Mikey grimaces, and hopes there just happens to be someone else in the room that is new. But because he knows that isn’t possible, he slowly turns around to remind his accuser that he has a _name._

He turns around to see a short guy waving his hand around wildly, seeming to think that just because Mikey wears glasses, he’s completely blind. He rolls his eyes and approaches the guy either way, not that he had any other choice. Ignoring people is beyond an option if he wants to at least _try_ to fit in.

The blue seat beside him is occupied with a black duffel bag full of books and Mikey glances at it, wondering why everyone seems so dedicated to be as far away from him as possible (unless everyone here is so paranoid that they believe him to be an assassin or something of that sort). But then the guy is taking his backpack off the chair next to him and he’s shooting Mikey a grin.

“Welcome to hell.” He says, almost proudly and gesturing to the classroom in an almost keen way.

It’s an odd greeting, but he isn’t expecting anything better. Or wanting to start a normal conversation which ends up awkward, for that matter. Meeting someone new is always uncomfortable and humiliating.

Though with this new guy, Mikey, despite having to move to a complete other state and leaving his friends behind, gratefully takes the seat and listens to his first teacher’s rants about history or something. Beside him, the kid who’s with a bored expression the whole time, starts scribbling down and rips a piece of paper from his notebook. He passes it to Mikey and Mikey finds it ridiculous how the other used a whole sheet of paper just to write ‘ _Hey. I’m Frank_ ’ in a small corner.

Mikey smiles at the stickman which it clumsily drawn at one corner.

 

 

“Seriously, though, what the fuck is _up_ with you?” Frank says as he gestures wildly as he talks (Mikey is careful around him because after noticing that Frank uses his hands a lot to explain things he knows it won’t take long before he’s slapped on the face), “I mean, it’s as if you already have a bad fucking reputation or something.”

Mikey rolls his eyes at this and continues walking beside his newfound friend (who at least seems cool enough) while gripping the strap of his backpack. For once he’s grateful he has his first two classes with Frank, considering a whole class full of them passing notes was enough to have them, feel comfortable enough with each other.

“Don’t know,” Mikey responds back, and twists the cap of his water bottle open in order in take a quick sip of hydration before bringing the bottle down again and shrugging, “Maybe it was my biceps. Intimidating.” He says impassively. Frank snorts.

“Right. I’m sure your nonexistent muscles are the cause of all the fear your getting.” He responds.

“You shouldn’t be talking, squirt.”

Mikey is half expecting a punch on his jaw in response, since he could have never said any type of ‘friendly insult’ to anyone but Ray and maybe James back home. It would always end up with Mikey’s cockiness responded with him going to the nurse’s office, a bruise already forming on his jaw (since Mikey never learned how to defend himself).

Instead, he is surprised to feel Frank playfully punch his shoulder and tell him to ‘fuck off, asshole’ because he has ‘more strength than his lanky arms could ever have’ followed by Frank childishly glaring at him in a good-humored way. Mikey slyly smiles and shakes his head as Frank leads him to their Biology class and sees the black-haired boy enthusiastically sit down in his seat, staring at Mikey after because he’s already expecting Mikey to sit with him in every class they have together even if he has to kick out his original partner. As long as Mikey has Frank to help him out, maybe school won’t be so bad after all.

 

 

“You aren’t here with anyone else.” Andy states, taking another one of his fish sticks as Patrick wrinkles his nose at him. Mikey shrugs.

“With my dad.”

“No mom? Is she dead?” Pete adds, stealing a chip from Frank which he throws into his mouth only to be spit out when Patrick hits him.

“ _Pete!_ ” He scowls with his eyes furrowed, “You don’t ask that type of stuff!”

Pete sighs as he sees his chip on the floor at his feet and on his lap. Mikey rolls his eyes and idly picks at his potato tacos filled with lettuce. Frank, who is sitting beside him isn’t saying anything (mostly because his face is stuffed with cookies, a juice box and surely everything else that prevents his growth).

“It’s alright. My parents divorced long ago. No big deal.” Mikey responds, finally picking a small strand of lettuce to pop it into his mouth and ignores the crunching sound. Patrick rolls his eyes and punches Pete once again while giving a look that could only say, _‘See? Why can’t you keep your mouth shut?’._ Pete just replies with a whine and him rubbing the spot Patrick punched him while pouting. Though Mikey is amused, he does not show it.

“So it’s only you two living in a house?” Joe utters from behind his world of food around him (because, according to what he told Mikey just today, he was given fifty dollars yesterday and he can’t choose a better way to use it than on food and a bit of weed). Mikey grimaces and occupies himself into making sure the green salsa he sprayed over his food doesn’t escape the tortilla.

“Not exactly.”

Mikey hopes they leave it at that, but knowing the people sitting at the same table don’t really know where the thin line off ‘privacy’ begins, he isn’t surprised when they ask him to explain.

“My dad got re-married,” Mikey finally sighs into his hand with his cheek burrowed into his palm, “And his wife lives with my dad and I.”

“Oh, Mikeyway! Any new siblings at this school?” Pete throws in and grins. Mikey frowns. It isn’t fair that they seem to know _exactly_ what questions to ask. He wonders if it’s this reason that they haven’t had any new friends since they knew each other since second grade –all of them-. Because they just scare everyone else off.

Mikey decides lying will get him nowhere but to the library at lunch to eat without friends.

 “Yeah.”

Frank looks up and his eyebrows raise up to his hairline in a comical expression, face still stuffed with food and what looks like chocolate judging by the brown smudge at his cheek.

“Is the lucky he or she here?”

Pete turns around in his seat after asking this and scans his eyes quickly across the full cafeteria, even though he knows he can’t _possibly_ catch everyone’s faces when it’s this full of people.

Mikey glances up and his eyes settle to a corner where’s there’s the oldest table alone. It seems to be full of graffiti and scratched rude messages of threats with anything sharp. And so there, alone and eating a feeble sandwich, is Gerard.

It’s obvious he still hasn’t made a single friend and probably never will. The only reason Gerard had any friends at their old school was because Mikey invited Ray a lot to their house and Ray met Gerard more than a couple times. Wanting to help Mikey’s non-blood related older sibling out (despite Mikey’s protests), he introduced Gerard to a couple of other dudes. Long story short, Mikey ended up walking in on Gerard making out with Bert McCracken (something he rather not remember) and smoking weed with Quinn Allman.

“No,” Mikey responds once remembering the question, tearing his eyes away from the dark figure and back to his whole tray of Mexican food, “I don’t see him.”

 

 

The next few days go on smoothly. Mikey has gotten used to Pete’s non-stopping questions, Joe smelling like weed all the time, Andy’s angry fits, Patrick timidity and most importantly, Frank’s hyperactivity.

“ _Dude,_ but just _dude,_ ” He says one day while their grabbing their stuff in order to leave for lunch (well, Mikey is because Frank is all ready to go, just jumping aside of Mikey), “You should have _seen_ her! She completely flipped out and called the police. I thought I was going to get caught!”

Mikey hums to let him know he’s listening and shoves the last of his pencils into his bag, seeing them drop into the dark abyss of his backpack. He sighs. He can look for them later.

“Have you been to Knott’s Berry Farm?” Frank drastically changes the subject and his grin never falters. Mikey glances at him and looks back down to toss his backpack over his shoulder, indicating he’s ready to go. Then he realizes as Frank is expectantly staring at him that he’s waiting for an answer.

“I lived in California, Frank. Of course I have.” He mutters, dodging a couple practically making babies against the lockers. They’re lucky everyone is too damn hungry here to stay to pass around the hallways or they could have gotten caught by more than one teacher. Then he frowns.

“Did you go with some friends or with your dad?” He asks this time. Mikey is silently grateful Frank doesn’t say ‘ _family_ ’ because he has gotten the picture on the fact that Mikey refuses to call Mrs. Way and her son family. Gerard maybe his step-brother, but not his _brother_ in a more figurative way, and Mrs. Way is cool enough to pass on as his dad’s wife. But only as that.

“Friends but was forced to take Gerard as well.” Mikey rolls his eyes as he remembers the day, the image of Gerard slumping the whole time tagging along while trailing behind Mikey and his friends.

Frank snorts. “The same loser who does nothing but shitty things he calls _art?_ ” He asks, his eyebrows pulled down in a mocking sort of way that matches with his smirk. He also looks disgusted since he imagines Gerard the way Mikey describes his step-brother. He imagines Mikey’s brother in a corner of a dark big room scribbling ugly doodles into his notebook and signing the corner as if anyone will actually be stupid enough to like them.

It’s what Mikey has managed to make Frank think, after all. Mikey thinks the older Way is a loser and he has fooled Frank into thinking the same thing.

Frank has honestly never _seen_ Mikey’s brother, but by the way Mikey describes him he probably never will. Not that Frank cares. Why would he want to be seen talking to an artsy loser like Gerard? Mikey always claims Gerard is not in the lunch room, so he can’t point out to Frank _who_ of all the new faces in the room Gerard Way is. (Not that Mikey is lying, because from the second day of school on Gerard has _actually_ gone to the library to eat in lunch).

“What? He got forced by his mommy to get out of his room and get a life?” Frank laughs disdainfully, liking the way he gets to make fun of Gerard along with Mikey. The corner of Mikey’s lip turns upwards and he snorts.

“It was my dad, actually. And either way what was only half the reason he had to go.”

Frank raises an eyebrow and Mikey see a lollipop in his hand, Frank sucking on it and making a popping sound. Mikey rolls his eyes at how Frank always has extra candy in his backpack in case he ever has the need the need for one (every five minutes, really).

“He ran out of drugs?” Frank suggests, his wide eyes waiting for Mikey’s response as his lips curl around the pink candy, his lips glistening with the spit he had whipped onto the lollipop. Not only did Frank know Gerard is an artsy loser, but Mikey also made sure to let Frank in on exactly how much weed Gerard still smokes. (The only reason of Mikey not telling Donna being because Gerard would tell her about that one time Mikey was making out with the chick of that one party on the couch they _still_ sit on in the living room).

Mikey shakes his head, his glasses lowering down in the process, forcing Mikey to push them back up with his middle finger.

“Even worse,” He murmurs, his eyes now on the cafeteria doors that are getting closer with each step, “One of my friends forced him to go.”

Frank’s eyes widen and he pauses for a while as they enter the talkative cafeteria, voices buzzing in the air of all the people in it. Then, as they finally settle into line, Frank finally cracks.

Mikey is not amused as he watches with eyes full of apathy at Frank laughing as loud as he vocal chords allow him. He’s clutching with one arm his stomach and with the other the counter of the cafeteria. He seems  so close to tears but finally, until they are at the front of the line, Frank’s laugh fade into chuckles.

“You-” Gasp for breath, “Had to-” Gasp for breath, “Take him-” Gasp for breath, “Because you’re _friend_ invited him to go and wouldn’t take no for an answer?!”

And then Frank starts laughing again but this time he actually falls to the ground. Mikey’s eyes follow him and, well, there he goes.

_Fuck you, Ray._

“Alright, the fucking goblin has got to move. I’m hungry.” Someone finally says. Mikey blinks and looks up to see someone much taller than him glaring down at Frank. He seems like the guy that could kill _both_ of them without struggle in a couple seconds.

He sends Frank a glare and for a moment Mikey thinks he’s a bully who’s ready to punch Frank, until he bends down and throws Frank over his shoulder. Frank is still laughing but he manages to clutch onto the blonde’s waist and yell enthusiastically “Bob!”, and Bob just rolls his eyes.

“Iero, if you’re not going to buy you might as well move over or the pizza’s going to disappear.” He snaps, though no real vile tone behind the shout. Frank giggles (Mikey rolls his eyes at how he managed to get a thirteen year old girl to be his friend) and looks up to grin at the back of Bob’s head.

“ _Someone’s_ in a shitty mood.“ Frank laughs and pats Bob’s back as a signal that he could put him down. Bob does just that, being careful to set him down on his feet. Mikey’s glad for the distraction on Frank making fun of Mikey, who has a loser for a sibling.

Then Bob’s eyes move over to Mikey, and his eyebrow raises up. Frank stops laughing at the sudden silence at he looks up to Bob’s tall figure and sees his expression. His grin appears once again.

“Bobby! This is Mikey,” He exaggeratedly uses his arm to make a sign in Mikey’s direction, “Michelangelo, this is Bob.”

Mikey doesn’t move his head, instead just trailing his eyes all the way up until he finally makes it to Bob’s face. He frowns when he sees Bob staring at him intensely. Then he’s only a bit grateful that Bob is Frank’s friend, so that means Mikey doesn’t have to deal with any more bullying.

“Hey.” Bob greets, and nods in his direction. Mikey nods back and waves his arm in the air in an awkward matter. Bob finds this enough and is obliged to grant his attention back to Frank.

“Bob! C’mon! You gotta sit with us. Pete brought is fucking porn magazine you gotta check out!” Frank is practically shouting into Bob’s face, jumping up and down until the heels of his feet allow him to have Bob’s height for a second or so. Bob isn’t fazed by Frank yelling less than three inches away and instead rolls his eyes, places his hands firmly on Frank’s shoulders in order to stop him from bouncing any longer.

“Can’t. I gotta get tutoring right now.” Bob says. Frank stops fighting against the strength of Bob’s arms and stares at him, wide-eyed.

“You’re letting someone _teach_ you something?” Frank exclaims, and looks seconds away from kidnapping Bob and asking him questions under a bright light in a dark room. Bob shrugs.

“No serious business. I’m just learning a thing or two on art and the dude’s pretty cool,” He responds while rolling his eyes, “Besides, it’s nice to be in a quiet place without the fucking _annoying_ gossip in this cafeteria. The lady at the desk doesn’t even tell me anything when I sneak food into the place anymore.”

By the time Bob’s said _learning a thing or two_ and _art_ in the same sentence Mikey is pressing his lips together and he’s letting a frustrated sigh escape his lips while he shakes his head rapidly.

“You’re letting _Gerard_ teach you?” He asks, eyes expectant on Bob for the answer, which he already knows. Bob turns to him and seems surprised at the sudden voice and question. Beside him, Frank’s mouth falls open.

“You know him? He’s a new kid like you.” Bob responds, and blinks. Mikey frowns and holds another fraught sigh that threatens to escape.

“We have the same last name if you didn’t know, Sherlock.” Mikey responds, raising an eyebrow at the other blonde. He pull his beanie down and punches his glasses up. Bob freezes.

“You’re the annoying sibling?” Bob asks.

“You talk to Gerard the _freak?_ ” Frank exclaims.

Mikey rolls his eyes and turns to take his lunch, realizing he’s holding up the line since it’s already advanced but he hasn’t moved. It’s honestly refreshing to know Gerard had not given Bob any names of exactly _who_ his step-brother is. Mikey was only forced because if he hadn’t Frank would have never left him alone.

But then Bob is shooting Mikey a sickened glare and he gets out of line, no food in his hands. Frank calls over to him and yells that why is he leaving, and if he’s sure he doesn’t want to ditch ‘Gerard the freak’ in order to be with someone with _sanity._ Bob snorts and looks over his shoulder as he heads toward the cafeteria doors.

“And hang out with an asshole like Gerard’s brother? Not a fucking chance, Iero. If anyone here is a freak, it’s you two. Piss off and leave Gerard alone.”

He leaves and Frank is left fuming. At the table, Joe is sleeping, Andy is picking on his sandwich (quiet as always), Patrick is humming to a random tune, and Pete asks why Frank is so pissed off. This causes Frank to ramble the whole lunch hour about how Gerard has obviously brainwashed Bob into thinking he’s cool.

Mikey snorts and keeps on eating his pizza.

 

 

Nothing too life-changing has happened to Gerard, really. On his first day of school he avoided as much people as he could, and succeeded. At his first hour he sat at an empty desk and no one ever came to sit next to him. He doodled the whole hour and managed to make his new teacher think he’s been here since the start.

Then on the second period he was forced to say his first name when another twenty pairs of eyes were staring at him. He had mumbled _Gerard_ so low he doubted anyone really understood him and probably called him _‘Gubald’_ just for the heck of it (if they even cared to talk about him, which is a no).

But then in his third period he was forced to talk to the guy beside him by the professor (who said they needed to talk to the other about the class topic), who just glared at him and told him to fuck off. Gerard had narrowed his eyes and said a snarky comment back. There was a heated argument between the two, not spared a second glance by the other classmates who were too into their own discussions whish had nothing to do with the class topic. The other ended up being a second away from punching Gerard, considering he seemed to lose his temper easily, until the teacher finally noticed and threatened them to send them to the principal’s office if they didn’t calm down. Just then the other turned to Gerard.

“I’m Bob.” He had said. Gerard blinked.

“Gerard.”

“So, Gerard,” Bob says casually, throwing his notebook carelessly to the floor beside his backpack to pick up later, “What kind of music do you listen to?”

 

 

“Fucking _finally,_ ” Frank exclaims as they near the tall white house on the corner of the block, “I thought you were never going to ask.”

Mikey rolls his eyes and tightens his grip on the strap of his backpack, the thick fabric leaving a pink print on his palm covered by the black. Frank exhales dramatically and he waits for Mikey to open the wired fence to the house in order to enter the house.

“Now that I have at last seen your house, Mikeyway, I _demand_ for a wedding ring.”

Mikey snorts and pushes the door open, letting Frank pass first. Frank does, and he jumps into the first step into the house, taking a last glance over his shoulder to the green garden at the front of the huge house. Frank will never admit it, but he’s sort of intimidated with the huge house and even _Mikey_ now that he sees exactly _how_ rich Mikey is. He doesn’t let it show though, and he passes through the door and waits Mikey to close it behind them.

“And it must have at least three small diamonds at the front.” Frank continues loudly, the thought of Mikey’s parents in the house not really passing through his mind at the moment. Mikey grabs Frank’s bag and throws it across the room in one corner along with his own. He motions Frank to follow him to the opening of what Frank guesses is the kitchen.

“With my name carved at the back.” Frank continues. Mikey finally grabs an apple from the fruit basket and throws it in Frank’s direction viciously. Frank only barely dodges. Frank grins.

“I had to visit my mother,” Mikey finally says, and Frank looks up confused until he sees Mikey holding up a piece of paper and realizes he’s reading, “I’ll be back by eight, possibly later. Food’s in the oven. Don’t touch the microwave, Michael, or I’ll make you buy a new one.”

At the last note Mikey rolls his eyes and sets the paper down, remembering the last time he tried to pre-heat dinner in the microwave alone. He’s been banned from trying to do anything in the kitchen ever since.

“So your mom’s out?” Frank asks, and decides to help himself to whatever is in the fridge. Mikey doesn’t acknowledge him so he figures it’s alright.

“That’s what the note says. So yes, Frank.” Mikey responds in monotone. Frank rolls his eyes and takes out a poptart.

“I hate you.” Frank adds casually. Mikey turns to leave the kitchen, a banana in hand since he’s going to have to wait for Gerard so he could eat the dinner warm.

“Ditto.”

Frank jumps off the counter he was sitting on and walking behind Mikey, opening the wrapping of his snack and throwing in into the trash can.

“So, you said you got an Xbox?” He asks.

 

 

There’s no other sound filling the room beside their curses and the occasional yells from the game. Well, Frank’s cursing and Mikey’s just grunting every time Frank manages to catch him by surprise and literally cut his head off. Frank’s managed to kill Mikey about five times, but also Mikey has stabbed him only about fifteen. Frank isn’t sure. He lost count after twelve.

Without anyone of Mikey’s _housemates_ in the house Frank is able to yell, and curse and scream bloody murder at Mikey in the living room as they play while Mikey silently laughs at him. Frank ends up giving up on trying to win Mikey at some point and pouts for a total of eight minutes.

Just then the sound of the door creaking is heard and the sound of heavy shoes echoes barely over the noise of the game. Mikey rolls his eyes at the sound and Frank already knows who it is.

“If you’re done fucking around with your little new friend it’d be fucking awesome if you could turn on the goddamn oven.” Mikey says loudly, enough for the other to hear. Frank takes this as an opportunity to kill Mikey and he whines as he sees Mikey had paused it from his controller. Mikey visibly smirks.

“Sorry I actually have friends!” A voice yells back, this time from the kitchen and then the sound of the oven is heard, meaning he’s actually turning it on for his own sake of food, not Mikey’s. (And Mikey wonders how everyone does it without causing any sort of disaster).

Frank snorts silently at Gerard’s voice and is close to defending Mikey, to yell something like shoving in Gerard’s face that Mikey has more friends than Gerard will have in his lifetime. He stays quiet though, because he knows that Mikey knows how to push Gerard’s buttons.

“Imaginary don’t count, jackass.” Mikey mutters, but is sure that the older sibling hears.

“Hardy har har. Hate to break it to you but some people actually like talking about cool shit like comics.” The snotty response is annoying to Frank’s ears and he already wants to cuts the guy’s head off, even if he _is_ two years older.

“Just because Bob feels pity for you doesn’t mean he actually likes crap.” Comes Mikey’s apathetic response.

Then Frank feels a figure behind him and a backpack go flying over his head to beside the television, meaning he also throws his backpack around the house. Then a voice comes from above him.

“Fuck off and focus on your own fucking life, asshole.” Gerard snarls, and Mikey glares at the television screen. Frank takes this as an opportunity to turn around and snap at the guy that he already hates just by what Mikey has told him. Huge losers seriously don’t have a reason to live.

He turns around in his seat with his eyebrows furrowed and is ready to face a red-faced freak with pimples all over to face when his words fall back into his mouth before he could even spit anything out. Because the guy in front of him is _not_ a red-faced freak with pimples all over his face.

“ _You’re_ Gerard?” Frank finally asks, voice high in tone and he wants to smack his head against the wall if Mikey doesn’t do it for him. _You’re Gerard_ …? _You’re Gerard!!!_ What the fuck is wrong with him.

The tall seventeen year old with the dark black hair and pale skin glances down at him to reveal hazel colored eyes, which roll at Frank. He realizes Frank’s one of Mikey’s new _friends._ Probably as much of an asshole as the devil himself.

“No shit, dude. I’m the fucking tooth fairy!” Gerard says sarcastically, throwing his arms up and all. Mikey rolls his eyes and un-pauses the game, swiftly taking Frank’s staring at his step-brother as a distraction to kill him once more. Frank doesn’t even care as he continues gazing at Gerard.

Gerard has a half eaten apple in his hand and he takes another bite of it, munching on it and sucking the juice out of the pieces in his mouth. Feeling a pair of eyes staring at the side of his head, he turns his head and find’s Mikey’s friend staring up at him with wide eyes and his jaw agape. Gerard raises an eyebrow and shifts his head to face the side of Mikey’s face, who’s focused on the screen as he chooses something else to play.

Gerard points his apple in Frank’s direction and waves it around, mouth still full, “Is he retarded or…?” He asks, mumbling over the food. Mikey glances at Gerard, and then Frank before rolling his eyes.

“Compared to you, he’s fine.” He replies carelessly, and Gerard snorts and chews louder.

“Whatever. I’m going to my room so after ten minutes pass by, turn off the oven unless you want dinner to burn. I’m taking a fucking nap.” And Gerard turns around to go down the mystery stairs under the stairs to the second floor.

“You’re giving him a death sentence.” A cheerful voice says, and Mikey blinks at the new voice. He turns around to see Donna grinning from behind the couch, purse still in her hand.

“Hey. I thought you were with your mom.” Mikey says, eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he blinks once more and relaxes his expression. Donna opens her mouth to respond, but then a gasp escapes her as her eyes settle on the other figure beside him.

“Michael! You should have told me you were going to have company!”

She scowls at him and Mikey shrugs, says that is he didn’t really remember and it was a last minute decision. Donna glares playfully at him and promises to introduce herself later, after she’s fully prepared dinner so _‘Michael’s friend’s could stay for dinner, no questions asked’_ , and Frank doesn’t question or argue. Just lets Donna talk about how he needs more weight in him.

Gerard then appears and plops himself in the space between Mikey and Frank, takes the controller from Frank’s hands, his fingers brushing against Frank’s. The only reason Mikey doesn’t glare or snap at him is because then Gerard bets Mikey fifty dollars he could win a battle against him and Mikey could always use an extra fifty dollars.

When he turns to face Frank from behind Gerard’s back to let him pick the character, he sees that Frank is staring at his hands with his cheeks flaming red.

 

 

The dining room soon fills with the sound of plates clattering and forks scraping the bowl. Frank had indeed stayed for dinner after calling his mother and letting her know of the news, and he was forced to sit next to Mikey (except not _really_ forced considering he was happy to be near the only person he knew) and across from Gerard, who was staring at his mashed potatoes uninterestedly with his cheek buried into his palm.

Mr. Way (Or ‘Don’, as he asked Frank to call him) who was in the head of the table tried to make small talk with his wife about work and how she did today at home. He tried talking to Frank a couple time, but seeing Frank stutter a bit too much he decided it was best to leave the poor boy alone and not embarrass him further.

“Gerard, honey, you’ve been awfully quiet today.” Donna suddenly says, and stares Gerard down. She is sincerely asking what’s wrong, but under her stare Frank could notice she was also silently scowling at him. Gerard doesn’t put too much mind into this, considering he just shrugs.

“Just tired. I’ve advanced a lot in my room and it’s just tiring working under a dim light.” He admits, and finally grudgingly grabs the clean fork to play around with his food. Mikey rolls his eyes.

“You don’t seem to mind the lack of light when you spend your weekends forgetting what _light_ even _means._ ” He says offhandedly. Gerard halts his movements of moving his utensil around and glares at him. Mikey doesn’t even notice, as Frank sees when he glances at his friend’s figure, but he was expecting it.

“I don’t believe this is how you act in front of guests.” Donna snaps, and Don sighs, puts his hand to reach out to Mikey’s shoulder.

“Calm down.” He tells Mikey. Mikey mutters a response too low for even himself to hear.

Frank feels awkward, because in his family it’s almost always been just him and his father. And though Frank would never say it aloud because he doesn’t want to lose his closest friend so far, Frank sees the whole Way household as a _family._ Jesus, Mikey would slaughter him if he ever accidentally said it.

“Gerard,” Donna suddenly says, “Had you ever seen Frank before in school?”

Frank’s eyes widen at his food. Donna’s trying to get the conversation centered onto him. His fingers clench the fork almost painfully and he looks up to wait almost hopefully at Gerard’s answer. The other black-haired boy shrugs and shoves some potato into his mouth.

“Not once. I usually spend lunch in the library with Bob. I didn’t even know the kid existed. Didn’t care either. _Ow._ ”

“That is _no_ way to talk o your guest, Gerard Way! Have I taught you nothing!” Donna yells, and glares at him. Gerard lifts his shoulders up and lets them fall.

“Technically, I wasn’t talking to him. I was talking to _you_ because you asked. I only answered with sincerity.”

Gerard knows he just earned himself a very angry talk from his mother the moment Frank leaves. Gerard seriously hopes now Frank stays the night. Donna’s talks are never pacific.

“Well, we can only feel lucky Gerard’s eyes never fell onto Frank or it’d be a pity to put Frank’s figure to waste.” Mikey responds, in attempt to defend Frank.

Frank doesn’t say anything to snap at Gerard much like Mikey thought he would. Frank isn’t one to keep his anger inside, no matter who is near and if they are Mikey’s parents or not.

By the end of the day, Frank leaves with a shake of hands with Don, a hug from Donna and a nod from Mikey. Gerard just stands leaning on a wall in the very back of the house watching as they say their goodbyes. When the black-haired boy sees Frank every once in a while glance at him, he slowly lets his lips curl into a smirk.

**Author's Note:**

> Second part uploaded as soon as possible.


End file.
